Untimely Motherhood

A man who lived every bit of thirty 
Professed his love for me 
And I a girl not more than seventeen
Believed his words to be 

He claimed to be what he was not 
And wasted my youthful years 
My trust I gave a mighty lot
So young and full of tears 

A mother's burden upon my head
Two sons for him I bore 
Daily I strive to get our bread 
He left me nothing more 

If add I now to that man's seed 
This hungry mouth of mine 
Three hungry mouths I have to feed
With bread and meat and wine 

I live a life of daily struggle 
Wondering what was my sin 
Was it to love and be so humble ?
Was it to be naive ?

Daily I rise to grow the soil
And provide all we lack 
With effort and with sweat I toil 
For the sun taunts my back

I look at my boys and tend to wonder
If grow them boys to men
To seek the whereabouts of their father
For they know I am no hen 

Would I say he was a good and bad 
Who left me in my prime?
Or say me that my love he had 
At once upon a time ?

Would I tell of how much he did lie 
To make me spread my legs ?
Or lie to them that he did die 
Not knowing of my eggs ?

What better words have I to say 
To make them learn of him?
I think and rethink everyday 
Yet no good word defines him

I hope a hope against all hopes 
That my sons live good lives 
And never thread their Father's ropes 
For they ought to love their wives

By :Adams .O. Elizabeth
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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Barry Avatar
April 9, 2020 at 4:17 PM
very effective and cruel...in a sort of middle English rhythm....its plain rhyme scheme makes all the more effective
Cohen Avatar
March 29, 2020 at 6:54 PM
Gripping and effective as poetry. Touches the heart. Best to you Elizabeth.
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